


Hyperbole and a Half: a Gas Station fic

by enoby_w



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: High School, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enoby_w/pseuds/enoby_w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Frank works the night shift at the Shell station. Bob is the weed fairy and Gerard is really, really awkward. A Summertime High school AU. Frank/Gerard</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thing the first.

**Author's Note:**

> I set this in the town I grew up in. Mostly because I could. And I wanted a fic where Frank worked at gas station and Gerard was that one guy who always bought coffee at two am. So here is chapter one. There are two more chapters
> 
> This is un-beta-ed so see a mistake point it out. I'll fix it.
> 
> Also say hi! I don't bite.

There always something about the last five weeks of school where everything about summer seems so fucking fabulous and if time would just hurry up and finals would just be fucking over already you could just do whatever you want and it would be like so way beyond awesome- really.

I swear- it was gonna be great.

But then finals actually end and the first week of summer hits. And it great- fucking awesome actually. And all you really do is sleep and hang around your room playing guitar and reading comics and not really doing a whole lot of anything.

And its awesome. Really it is.

But then its the second week of summer and you've read all your comic-at least five times, and you're out of cigarettes and your mom is really starting to get annoyed that you think getting up before 4 in the afternoon is waaay to early. Because it totally is too early- when you went to bed at six in the morning every night for the last two weeks.

And things just generally go downhill from there. Because its hot- and you forgot how much your mom nags- and holy fuck its June- how is it this hot already?

And that's how Frank ended up working the night shift at the gas station. Or something. Because honestly is gave him a reason to not sleep at night- he wasn't stuck at home while everyone else slept with nothing to do- and he mostly got to avoid his mom's nagging- since he was pretty much asleep all day.

Plus it was a job- abet a really shit job. But a job is a job- and that kind of thing seems to really thrill moms, and she'd pretty much gotten off his back.

He still thought this mostly because they only really saw each other like once a day for five minutes. But hey he wasn’t complaining, and it was certainly not the worst job he could have gotten, way better than bagging groceries at Shaws.

The best part of working at the gas station was that Bob got off half way through Frank’s shift and would come by with pizza- and on the really good nights weed. And they would open the back door and sit on the step out back across from the river and eat the pizza and shoot the shit and occasionally smoke up.

On the best days they’d get breakfast after Frank got off and Frank would pass out for a couple hours on the couch at Bob’s shitty apartment and spend the rest of the day playing video games and drinking coffee.

But then there were the nights Bob wasn’t working, or was tired or had something better to do then to hang out with Frank until he got off at six thirty and the night would stretch on forever and Frank would have to come up ways to not die of boredom.

Sometimes, he'd make up stories about the few customers that would come in, but some night were so slow that wasn’t even an option. Those were the worst, he’d fallen asleep on a couple of these, other times he’d try and get started on his summer homework- it was at least something to do, but that often just put him to sleep instead of keeping him awake.

Fortunately those nights didn’t happen all that often.

And Frank wasn’t quite sure what kind of night, tonight was going to be.

He’d worked at Shell station for a few weeks and since he hadn’t like stolen anything or caught anything on fire he’d started to get significantly more hours- which meant more money, but also meant more boredom.

He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about the whole thing yet, but as long at Bob kept showing up with pizza he didn’t think he’d mind all that much.

It was hot. And Frank was bored. It was sometime after 1:30 and he was waiting for Bob to show up with his damn pizza- Jesus Christ he was hungry and how is it still this hot?

The air condition had conked out sometime after five-for the third-fucking-time that week. Frank felt like his face was melting. The heat hadn’t let up what felt like an eternity- reality it was more like a week and half.

Frank was getting twitchy, shifting back and forth, scuffing his peeling faded Converse on the scratched linoleum, beat his fingers on the counter and alternating glaring at the door and glancing at the clock.

Because man he was hungry, and bored and where the fuck was Bob?

He got out like a whole fifteen minutes ago and it so didn’t take that long to walk from the Pizza shops back parking lot to Frank’s gas station. Frank knew this for a fact, he walked it like all the time and Bob’s legs were significantly longer than his.

Frank groaned and flopped against the counter.

The bell over the door rang and Frank perked up, and turned towards the door-thank god for pizza!

Except it wasn’t Bob.

It was that guy. The one always wrapped up in a black hoodie no matter how hot out it was, and always one who always bought one of the enormous cups of shitty gas station coffee and sometimes a pack of smokes.

Frank thought he was pretty weird. Not that being weird was like an awful thing, cuz hey Frank was also pretty weird. But Frank also didn’t buy coffee at a gas station at in like the middle of the night- like all the time.

That was weird.

His name was Gerard- or at least that’s what his ID said- Frank totally isn’t a creep for knowing that- he had to ID him to sell him smokes, he just you know happened to remember.

The thing about Gerard was he was kind of really hot. Even with his too long kind of greasy hair and oversized hoodie.

Okay so maybe Frank was a creeper. Or that’s what Bob said when Frank had told him about Gerard and how he was kind of really hot and Frank wanted to be his friend.

The whole being his friends thing wasn’t exactly going well, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying, because man was Frank trying. But Gerard didn’t really seem to want to talk to Frank at all or like make eye contact or anything.

Frank thought maybe was just shy- Bob said he probably thought Frank was being creepy.

Fucking Bob.

Frank had kind of spaced out and then Gerard was like right in front of him, all wide eyed and eyebrows raised .

“I am so not asleep! I promise, that was like one time,” Said Frank, taking Gerard’s money. Gerard just gave him another look, and shuffled out of the door.

“BYE!” called Frank enthusiastically.

They were totally going to be friends by the end of the summer.

This time when the bell over the door rang it was Bob. He was covered in flour and carrying a pizza box.

“Thank god –man I am so hungry,” said Frank tearing into the box as soon as it hit the counter, “what the hell took so long?”

“I was doing my job- and then Pete started a flour fight. And then we had to clean up the flour fight,” said Bob, taking a massive bite of pizza, “mmmmh pizza, I saw your lover boy in the parking lot.”

“Fuck off man,”

“You’ve got weird taste Frankie.”

“What? But he’s like so cute- I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have awesome taste,”   
said Frank leaning on the counter.

“What about that one guy with the-

“That was an exception.”

“Or that time that with the girl who-”

“Just shut up,” said Frank scowling.

“See you don’t have awesome taste, you have terrible taste,” said Bob.

“Why are we friends? You suck,” said Frank.

“I bring you pizza and hang out with you at a gas station when I could be sleeping- and because I am the weed fairy.”

“....weed fairy?”

“I don’t know ask Pete.”

Frank snorted and Bob rolled his eyes and muttered, “Pete.”

Frank didn’t think this was a bad way to spend the summer. All late nights, and sunrises and video games and cigarettes and pizza.

Sometimes Bob would sneak him in the shows at P Pie, when he was working the sound booth for one of the local bands, and he’d hang out in the kitchen stealing fires and annoying Ray with Pete.

It blew by way too fast- nights all bending together and suddenly school was coming up like right the fuck now. That meant Bob and Pete would head back to college and Frank would have a whole lot less people to hang out with. Which he didn’t like to think about much.

And now on slow shifts Frank actually had to do his homework and like focus because it had to get handed in two weeks, holy fuck how did that happen?

And he still wasn’t friends with Gerard. Shit.

He was going to need a miracle.

“I need a miracle,” said Frank.

He and Bob were sitting on the stoop behind the Shell station the back door open, and Frank could kind of sort of see the front counter.

He was pretty sure no one would steal anything.

“Dude, you need all sorts of miracles, or you aren’t going to graduate this year. I didn’t know anyone could be this bad at math,” said Bob, glancing at Franks Calculus homework.

“Fuck you man,” said Frank scowling, “math hates me.”

“Apparently,” said Bob.

"No but seriously, it hates me. You have to fight it for me. Like, give me weapons of, of math or something-- I don't know! But I'm like forty-three percent sure there's going to be a pop quiz on the first day and that probability is totally unacceptable."

"See, that doesn't even make sense. Forty-three percent sure means that it's less than fifty percent, which knowing your teacher is actually encouraging."

Frank groaned. Bob grinned. "Okay, fine. I'll help you. But I'm not going to do it for you, you have to, like, actually follow my directions."

Frank looked dubiously, and sideways, at Bob. "Um, fuck you, man." Bob glared at him. "--But okay, I guess?"

Bob smiled, victoriously. "Now, young Padawan--"

And a walking hoodie set off the door alarm. A tiny, Gerard-shaped hoodie.

Bob poked Frank hard in the ribs, and fluttered his eyes lashes and grinned.

Frank flipped him off and slipped back inside. Gerard was standing in front of the counter, extra large cup of steaming coffee in hand looking thoroughly confused.

It made his nose go a crinkly and Frank thought he kinda looked like a kitten, in like the best way possible, because kittens are awesome okay.

“Hey dude,” said Frank.

Gerard may and jumped, spilling some on his coffee down his front and squawking in a very undignified manner.

He turned, wide eyed towards Frank.

“Oh-shit, sorry….” said Frank, looking sheepish, “I didn't mean to startle you.”

Gerard muttered something under his breath, and shrugged.

Frank, then made a decision, because he only had like a week and half left to befriend Gerard, and his current tactics obviously weren’t working.

Time to be aggressive. Be, be aggressive!

“Hey- so you like good music right? Well, you like the misfits judging by your hoodie- so I am going to assume you like good music,” said Frank, flailing his hands, while a rung up Gerard's coffee and cigarettes, “and my friends are having this party on Friday, with like a bunch of good local bands. You should come.”

Gerard stared at Frank for a minutes, “um,” he said, “maybe? Where is it?”

“Oh, 65 Maple, shows are in the basement, if you can’t find it you’ll hear it before you see it. Shows start at 8,” said Frank.

“Okay. I think my brother said something about that- he’s been trying to get me to go anyway, I don’t know I might go,” he shrugged again. And took a sip of the coffee.

“You should. Because it will be awesome. And I’ll be there and I’m awesome.” said Frank.  
Bob started laughing.

“FUCK YOU BOB!” Frank shouted towards the open back door.

“What ever you say, Mr. Awesome,” replied Bob.

Gerard shuffled awkwardly, “bye?” he said waving halfheartedly.

“See you Friday?” asked Frank.

“Yeah I guess,” said Gerard.

Frank waited for about three seconds after he left to start wildly dancing around the store, while Bob cackled from the back door.

Whatever. Frank was going to party on Friday. And Gerard was going to be there. Fuck Yeah.

This was going to be awesome.  



	2. Thing the Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have another chapter. Because apparently I am actually being a productive human being for once.  
> Again, feel free to say hi.
> 
> I don't bite.

Thing The Second: 

Gerard toed open the back door, and keep his coffee close to his body as he stumbled down the dark basement steps. 

The TV was still on and Mikey was slumped half awake on the couch, his glasses dangerously close to the end of his nose. 

“Smokes?” he asked looking up at Gerard.

Gerard tossed him the pack, and kicked off his worn boots, dropping on the couch next to Mikey, careful not to spill his coffee.

He took a long sip, and glanced at the bright TV.

“You’re still watching Batman?”

“Batman is awesome.” said Mikey.

“I know that….” said Gerard, he brushed his bangs out of his eyes, “So that thing on Friday, are you still going?”

“What thing on Friday?

“The music thing, with the bands? You said you wanted me to go?”

“Oh- Bob Bryar’s house party, yeah, I’m still going why?”

“I might come.”

Mikey stared at Gerard for a second, “You might come.”

“Yeah, thats what I just said.”

“ I thought you said, quote ‘ No, no absolutely not, you can’t make me. if you want me to go you’ll have drag my rotting corpse,’ end quote.”

“I changed my mind?”

Mikey snorted. 

“And how the hell did that come about?”

“Frank invited me.”

“Frank? Frank Who?”

“Um, you know that weird guy who works at the gas station? Well his name is Frank, and he invited me,” said Gerard.

Mikey sat up, “wait- is he like tiny a loud mouth punkass with a mohawk thing?”

“Yes?” said Gerard.

“Oh. My. God. You’re talking about Frankie Iero- I can’t even fucking believe it. Of course its you, who the hell else would it be,” muttered Mikey shaking his head.

“Wait, what? What’s me?”

“Frankie Iero is friends with Bob Bryar, who works the sound board with me at P Pie, and works at the Shell gas station and has this stupid crush on this one guy who wears hoodies all the time and buys shitty coffee and smokes at 2 in the morning all the time.”

“Okay….” said Gerard, not following.

“It’s you moron. Frank has a crush on you. Jesus Christ I can’t even believe, I have been listening to him whiny about this all summer and its you.”

“Huh?” said Gerard.

“Frank has a crush on you. He has been trying to make friends with you all summer, stupid and whines about his failures like every three seconds. Also you have no choice you are going to that party.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’ll drag your rotting corpse if I have to.”

And that’s how Gerard ended up at Bob Bryar’s annual end of the summer house party. 

Mikey has refused to let him wear a hoodie, “It’s like a million degrees Gerard, you don’t need a hoodie, you will melt.”

Gerard had argued that maybe he wanted to melt. But Mikey gave him that exasperated Mikey look and he shut up.

And Gerard wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He didn’t really know anyone other than Mikey-and Mikey knew everyone. Gerard was pretty sure it was his super power. That and getting in places he should be able to get in.

Gerard settled into the couches pushed against the back wall in the basement, and pulled out a sketch book. It was kind of dark but he was used to drawing in the dark.

Mikey has insisted on getting there early, he was helping with the set up apparently- and Gerard had wandered off, stacking aps and untangling wires wasn’t really his thing, he tended to get his feet tangled and then knock things over.

So since he was otherwise occupied Gerard didn’t notice people showing up, until someone bumped into his leg, and he looked up and suddenly the basement was packed.

He blinked a few times and wondered when the hell that happened, and if they had all had just sprung out of the ground like a bunch of black clad plants. That would be pretty cool actually- he flipped to a new page in the sketch book and started sketching an army of punk kids sprouting out of the ground.

Then the first band started and the room around him turned into a mass of movement, and he couldn’t draw any more because his couch kept being bumped, but he didn’t mind the band was actually pretty good. 

Actually the first few bands were awesome. The fourth band however, was awful. So awful that the crowd that had packed the basement, and started to disperse and Gerard was able to keep working on his army of punk plant people.

Then someone dropped down next to him on the couch.

“You came!”

A sweaty Frank grinned at Gerard.

“Hi!” said Frank, enthusiastically.

“Hi?” said Gerard.

Frank grabbed his arm, “Come on this band sucks, time for a smoke break.”

Gerard didn’t get a chance to respond before, Frank had dragged him to his feet and started weaving through the remaining crowd.

They left basement, climbing the crowed steps, and Frank pushed open the back door, propping it open with a beer bottle.

Frank dropped on to the stoop and pulled Gerard next to him.

“So.” said Frank, “I’m Frank.”

“I know,” said Gerard.

“So why do you come in at like stupid early in the morning? Like if I wasn’t working I’d totally be sleeping- no that’s a lie I’d be like reading comics or bugging Bob, but yeah. Gas station coffee, why?”

Frank talked really fast and he was looking at inquisitively at Gerard, and Gerard, wasn't really sure what to say.  
.   
“Um,”

Well that was a stellar start.

“I draw, and I guess I get a lot more at night you know? Less distractions, and I kinda burn out for a while and if I go get coffee from town, I can pick up smokes too and take break and sometimes I figure out whatever the problem with what I was working or come up with something better or whatever. That and I always run out of smokes half way through because my brother keeps stealing them. Mikey needs to get his own damn cigarettes,” Gerard realized he was rambling and shut up.

“You draw? That’s really cool. I can’t draw for shit. What do you draw? Do you like comics?”

Gerard just kind of nodded and half shrugged and showed Frank the drawing of punk plant people.

Eventually Frank managed to coax Gerard into an actual conversation- mostly about how evil math was, and how Frank was pretty sure calculous wasn’t actual math and that it was actually just a method to drive insane.

Gerard had nodded enthusiastically. 

Frank was please to finally have found someone who understood his pain. 

Bah who needs math anyway?

Gerard didn’t have to take math this year since he was going to art school. Frank was pretty jealous. Gerard had ended up in a general Chem class thought and he wasn’t exactly sure how that happened or what he was going to do because he took Bio in high school.

“I took chem last year,” said Frank, “Mr Alond hates me. I really hope I don’t have him again this year.”

“Oh why does he hate you?” asked Gerard.

“I kind of blew up half the chem lab last year,” said Frank shrugging.

""You blew up the Chem lab?" Said Gerard eyes wide.

"I kind of blew up the Chem lab."

"Kind of? How do you kind of blow up something up?" asked Gerard

"I have no idea. I like even followed the directions and everything. One minute I was like 'okay we mix the green and red stuff and its gonna bubble a bit and then it was like BOOOM!I was kind of proud of myself- it was pretty impressive explosion.”

"You blew up the Chem lab," said Gerard.

"I kind of blew up the Chem lab, and it was an accident!"

“Wow.” said Gerard.

“Yeah,” said Frank, “Man I got in so much trouble! I got suspended for like two weeks. My mom was pissed. And I still don’t know how I did it. I bet some fucker didn’t wash the beaker out or something, fucking high school,” said Frank rolling his eyes.

Gerard grinned at him, showing all his little teeth and crinkling his nose.

“Dude,” said Frank, “You’re really fucking cute.”

“Murp.” said Gerard. And then he had to go away.

Because tiny punks who read comic book and liked his art work calling him cute was just too much for his brain to handle.

Later that night when Mikey got home, and stopped in the basement, “You are a moron,” said Mikey flatly.

“I know!” whined Gerard. 

“Dude, you ran away.”

“I know!”

“Franks thinks you hate him.”

“Miiikey!”

Mikey rolled his eyes, and went up stairs.

Fuck. Gerard was going to have to go back to the gas station and it was going to be awkward. Frank was going to hate him. 

Man this was so not awesome.


	3. Thing the Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that took a little bit longer then planned. I had a bunch of trouble with the ending, and then life happened.
> 
> Anyway. I got the ending sorted. And I like it. So I hope you like it too.
> 
> If you see stupid mistakes point em out. I'll fix em.
> 
> Also do say Hi! It really makes my day.

Frank had decided that he should be optimistic, about the you know, Gerard running away from him situation.

It’s not like he got horrendously drunk afterwards and pretty much spent the next two days in miserable hangover hell or anything. Because that would be stupid.

Gerard would come back to the gas station and it would be cool. They’d like pretend it never happened and Frank would say something really suave and they’d end up making out on the counter or something.

Or something.

But then Gerard didn’t come back.

Maybe he was still hung over? From the all the drinks he didn’t drink because he wasn’t at the party, because Frank scared him away.

Whatever. Optimism!

There was still time right? School didn’t start for a few days.

The next night Gerard didn’t come back either.

And now Frank was sulking.

Bob was so beyond done with the entire situation. He was about three years beyond done with this situation.

Frank was dramatically slumped against the counter.

Bob poked him in the shoulder, “Dude, it’ll be fine.”

“It won’t be fine,” mumbled Frank, “Gerard hates me and school starts in two days and this is my last shift, and he hasn’t come back! I scared him away. I am awkward scary thing that makes cute people turn and flee.”

“Oh my God, can you be any more melodramatic,” groaned Bob.

“Booooob,” Frank whined, “I am doomed to be alone for the rest of forever!”

“And proms tomorrow!” said Bob clutching at his face.

“Very funny,” said Frank glowering at him.

“Oh come on Frankie, cheer up, if the guy was dumb enough to run away from you- like seriously what the fuck- he obviously is kind of lame and therefore you should just buck the fuck up and stop being a whiny little bitch,” said Bob, thumping Frank on the back.

“He was actually kinda cool,” said Frank.

“Yeah well we thought Smithy was kinda cool too and look how that ended up,” said Bob, looking pointedly at Frank.

Frank didn’t buck up. Mostly he whined, and then they ate pizza and Frank moaned and flailed some more.

And then Bob had to bail, because he’d totally fulfilled his friend duties for the week and he had school in like two days and had about six essays to write. He wasn’t worried about it though, sleep was for the weak.

After Bob left, Frank slumped against the counter. This sucked. A lot.

It had been a really slow night, and he bored. And fuck man. The end of the summer so didn't go the way he had hoped it would.

And then the door alarm rang.

Frank looked up at a very sheepish looking Gerard.

“Hi,” said Gerard.

“You ran away,” said Frank.

“I know. That was pretty stupid huh?”

“And then you didn’t come back.”

“I know.”

“This is my last shift. I have school on Monday.”

“I know.”

They stared at each other.

“I still think you’re cute,” said Frank.

“Okay?”

“Just sayin, you know in case you were wondering or anything,”

Gerard blinked. He wasn’t really sure what to say. Or do. and he really wanted to go away in hide and pretend this never happened. But then Frank would feel bad and he’d feel bad. And there would be lots of bad feelings.

So really he needed to suck it up and stop being so god damn awkward, oh my god.

“I’m really awkward.” said Gerard.

Frank laughed.

“It’s cool. I’m awkward too. You know what else would be cool, us, being awkward in the same location,” said Frank.

“You mean like what’s happening right now?”

“I guess, I was thinking more like hanging out? Watching a movie or something?”

Gerard paused for a second, “wait- like a date?”

Frank grinned at him, “Yeah- well if you wanted it to be date or it could be be hanging out and watching a movie. Either way is cool.”

“I like movies,” said Gerard.

“Okay,” said Frank nodding.

“Okay?” said Gerard, “Okay what?”

“I don’t know,” Frank grinned, “ its dead as fuck in here, wanna go on smoke break with me- only how about you don’t run away this time?”

“Yeah okay,” said Gerard.

They sat on the back stoop with the back door propped open. Frank was going to stick out the awkward, because there was the promise of being awesome.

He could almost taste the awesome, he just had to climb through like sixty five million layers of awkward to get to the awesome.

And man could he saw awesome any more times?

Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

Gerard was looking at him funny.

He’d spaced out thinking about being awesome.

“Sorry, I spaced out thinking about awesomeness,”

“What kind of awesomeness?”

“This kind of awesomeness,”

And then he kind of kissed Gerard. Because he obviously had life on lock and it wasn’t random or anything. It was totally expected.

So expected in fact that Gerard made high pitched squeaking noise.

But then he kind of wrapped his hand around the back of Frank's neck and kissed him back, and yeah.  
This was made of awesome.

Moral of the story: Kissing killed awkward. Stabbed it through its fat face. Kissing combat. It was a thing.

The best part? It lead to more kissing. Lots of it.

And this was exactly how Frank hoped the summer would end.

The end


End file.
